The Library
by georgeheesto
Summary: Thorfinn Rowel is determined to show Hermione Granger exactly who she belongs to, even if it means letting her suffer for a little while.


_Thank you to Canimal, Freya Ishtar and_ _Kittenshift17_ _for introducing Thorfinn Rowel to the world of FF._

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 **Part One**

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Hermione Granger stared at the parchment in front of her, horrified when the words began to blur while she attempted to read them. With student's marks due tomorrow, Hermione was rushing through the last of the essay's her students had messily written up only days before.

Unable to concentrate, she glanced at the pile of essay's she had left to grade, dread settling deep within her tummy. She shouldn't have even been grading the parchments she'd been able to get through. There was no way she was at the utmost best, knew she was only going to have to go over the marked essay's again to ensure she was marking fairly. She knew it was more likely for her to delay the results, risking a mini-uproar from her students.

She'd attempted to focus. She'd done everything she'd been able to think of. But she'd been unable to disconnect her mind from her body. She was physically and mentally exhausted, trying to fight off the overwhelming need her body was suddenly in.

She should have known better than to sample the unlabelled sweets someone had left on her desk. The box hadn't been wrapped, just neatly placed on the centre of her desk. She hadn't thought twice before she was sitting at her desk, chocolate melting in her mouth. She'd consumed the sweet chocolates quickly, her sweet tooth far stronger than her need for caution.

She'd been on the last few pieces before she'd realised something was wrong. She knew the signs, had noticed the symptoms. The chocolates had been laced with an altered lust potion, and she knew exactly who they were from.

That'd been three days ago. And she'd been in a constant state of arousal that she hadn't been able to handle herself. She'd driven herself to exhaustion by attempting to do anything that would ease the symptoms. But somehow, anything she tried only seemed to make it worse.

She'd become almost psychotic during her days of teaching. Her lack of control over her emotions had her all over the place. The lack of sleep and oversensitivity to her skin had her snapping at everyone and anything. In any other circumstance, she'd be mortified at how out of control her body was, but after two long, sleepless nights, she was almost past caring.

Pressing her thighs together as a surge of heat shot through her whole body, she sucked in a gasping breath at the pure strength of it. The painful throb in her pussy hadn't left her in three days, a constant reminder that he had outsmarted her, much to her mortification.

She was grateful she was alone in the library, thankful curfew had come and gone. She should have stayed in her office to finish her student's essays. But she had had the hope that settling into her favourite place would have helped calm her somewhat.

If anything, it was doing the opposite. The library, after all, was one of their spots.

Blinking several times, she attempted to force herself to concentrate on the parchment in front of her. But as she glanced over the messy writing, another toe-curling shudder worked through her body that had her arching her back, head falling back against the chair as the pleasurable tingle spread.

She was simply going to kill him. She was going to take great pleasure in watching him suffer once she got her hands on him.

With an angry, aroused cry, she forced herself to move, so her upper body fell against the table, vaguely remembered to push her student's parchments away from her. She wasted no time in slipping her hand between her legs, wiggling her fingers beneath the band of her underwear to frantically rub at her sensitive clit. Her free hand blindly reached across the table, grasping at air as pathetic sounds broke from her. She rolled her forehead against the table as she moved her fingers lower, desperate to feel something, anything moving into her empty pussy. She moaned when she pressed two fingers into her grasping hole, hoping for a fast, hard orgasm. She felt her pussy flutter around her fingers, felt the tell-tale signs of her body reading for an orgasm.

Biting her lip, she arched her back, her pelvis to tilting forward, allowing her palm to rub against her clit as she moved her fingers in and out of her pussy. The everlasting need was almost overwhelming, her body tightening, muscles clenching as her orgasm approached.

And just as suddenly, vanished. She screamed in frustration, the wood beneath her muffling the sound somewhat as she pulled her hand away from between her legs. She slumped entirely against the table, letting out a sobbing breath as she squeezed her thighs together again.

She'd pushed him too far this time. She knew she had. She'd purposely gone out of her way to flirt with every male professor Hogwarts had, ensuring he was within hearing and watching distance when she spoke words of adoration and lingered with her touches.

But it hadn't been until his best friend had shown up at the castle. She'd all but thrown herself into his arms for a very intimate hug, and an even more intimate kiss to the side of his mouth before giving him a very flirty smile and flouncing off.

She'd felt his gaze on her as she sashayed away and then had felt his magic reach out for her. She'd felt his jealousy, his anger, his confusion. She'd braved a look behind her to find him standing next to his comrade, arms crossed over his massive chest, eyes enraged. She'd been so thrilled. She'd felt her heart seize, her body reacting instantly. Because she knew he would come after her.

Only he hadn't.

She'd anticipated him hunting her down. Stalking her within Hogwarts until he had her exactly where he wanted her. Against a wall, over a desk, in either of their beds, on the soft rug in front of his fireplace. When he was in his predator mode, he was dominant and brutal, pure male as he stalked his prey, her.

She startled when a dark chuckle, deep and husky, suddenly washed over her. She shot up from her position, eyes sorting him out. She stumbled weakly to her feet when she found him leaning against a bookshelf several feet from her. He looked far too relaxed; arms crossed over his chest as he smirked at her.

Between her thighs, an urgent pulse began, moisture gathering, preparing her for him. Her breath caught in her chest, his rough sexuality simmering around him catching her off guard. He was wearing jeans. He never wore jeans. They rode low on his hips, conforming to his muscular thighs and long legs. His long sandy hair was untied, wild, giving him a savage, earthy appearance that left her body throbbing.

"Thorfinn." she whimpered, taking a careful step towards him.

He shook his head, indicating he didn't want her moving closer to him. She froze, staring at him with wide eyes as his gaze swept over her. She desperately wanted to rid of the clothes on her body, needed to get the material away from her sensitive body.

Her heart beat frantically quickened when he pushed off the bookshelf, slowly moving towards her. She could read the intent to claim her on his face. This wasn't the man she'd been sleeping with the past year. This man was no longer in control; he was harder, more savage.

She quivered as he circled her, her hands curling into fists. He never touched her, just pressed in close, so she was able to feel his body heat. Her eyes slid closed when his magic caressed hers, the altered potion responding to its maker.

"Thorfinn. Please," she begged, her knees weakening as she fought to stay upright. He circled her one last time, stopping behind her. She jerked in shock when his hand curled around the back of her nape, his fingers warm and large as the settled against her skin. She could smell him, intense male, heated lust, dark hunger.

"I can take the flirting with professors you think I feel threatened by. I can take the teasing in meetings when you press against me or suck on your spoon for too long while eating dessert. I can take your dirty notes and the naughty photos you owled me while eating in the Great Hall. But I can not, will not take you flirting with my best friend." he snarled, pressing his larger body against her.

She sighed in content when she felt his warmth between their clothing, felt the hard planes of his body when his hand moved from her nape to snake around her waist. She sagged into him when his fingers made their way beneath her blouse to press against her soft belly. His lips pressed against the side of her temple as she blindly reached behind her to grasp his thigh. Her fingers rasped against the rough material of his jeans, her nails biting into the material when his beard brushed against her face.

"Antonin bragged about how you felt in his arms, told me how good it felt to have your softness pressed against him. He then proceeded to tell me what he would love to do to you. I love him like he is my brother, but as he talked about spreading your legs so he could taste your sweet cunt, I was ready to kill him." he murmured softly, but she could feel the danger behind it, could feel his control slipping even more.

After the war, Thorfinn had been arrested for his crimes as a Death Eater. He hadn't even served a 5th of his time before the ministry had him removed for unbeknown reasons. To this day, she wasn't entirely too sure why he, and others, had been released. There had been a total uproar about the ministry's decision when they had informed the Wizarding World a 'reformed' Death Eater would be teaching at Hogwarts. First, as a 'reformed criminal', he was to talk to students about his bad decisions and his mistakes. Then as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts. Three years on, he was proving to be one of the best DADA professors the school had ever had.

She'd arrived a year after he'd become the DADA professor. They'd instantly clashed, an apparent hatred simmering between them. After one particular meeting, she'd asked him to stay back after everyone had left. She berated him for punishing her students, which lead them into an argument over whose right it was to discipline students in the hallways when he'd suddenly stepped into her personal space, his hand sliding into her hair as his mouth covered hers. He'd taken her against the staff table that night, and they hadn't stopped since.

"You and I are going to have a little talk, Princess. I think it's a little overdue," he informed her. She whimpered, shaking her head when Thorfinn suddenly jerked her blouse, tearing the front material apart. She gasped, partly in outrage over her ruined shirt, but mostly in arousal. Something about him destroying her clothing had her pussy damping at the primal action.

"No." she whispered, her head falling to rest against his chest.

"Oh, yes. Now, I think you have suffered enough. Three days with no orgasms, my little lioness, surely that has been very tedious." he chuckled, stepping back from her. She instantly missed his warmth, missed his hard body behind her. His hands smoothed the torn blouse down her arms, his hands calloused and warm, sliding over her skin as he removed the garment from her.

He turned her to face him, and as he leaned over her, his expression dark and primal, his hand lifted grasp her chin.

"How pretty." he murmured as his gaze dropped to her breasts. She whimpered, arching against him, her breasts straining against her lacy bra. She suddenly felt too hot, almost dazed with sexual need as her hands lifted to grasp his forearms. Her womb spasmed, sending a shiver through her body, weakening her knees.

He bent his head closer to hers, the hand on her chin sliding into her hair as he softly growled. His lip lifting at one side to reveal the sharp, dangerous canine he had. He rumbled a warning before his head lowered completely and his demanding lips covered her own.

She would have collapsed if his other hand hadn't circled her waist, holding her against him as he angled their heads, his tongue pressing into her mouth. Her nails bit into his skin as she whimpered against the demanding thrust of his tongue. Hermione allowed her tongue to caress, to taste, yet it still wasn't enough. They both moaned when he moved his mouth to her jaw, leaving open kisses in his wake.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked breathlessly as his lips travelled down her throat, his teeth nipping. She felt his growl this time, felt the vibration of his chest against her breasts. Electricity shot through her nipples, tightening the little nubs to sharp points.

"Antonin has a very vivid imagination. In any other circumstance, I'd love to know what he planned to do to the witch he wanted to fuck. But not when the witch in his little fantasy happens to be mine-" her pussy spasmed at his harsh growl, her mind repeating his claim. "- With that being said, he did give me a few good ideas."


End file.
